"You Can'T Overserve the Okra"

Seems it's been a week since my last journal entry. I just haven't had the time. Studying, working, and tying up loose ends have left the boy ( yours truly ) no time to write "G.P."

My new work environs are laced with managers who all hail from other food biz locations. Applebee's for one; Krystal Hamburgers for another. The latter mgr. is 52 years old, and the other day hollered at me saying "don't worry about the food cost; you can't overserve the okra, fill 'er up!"

I guess I was moving too slow but I was grappling with the okra which was under a heat lamp. A few minutes later he admonished me by saying: "that's too much corn [ in the serving spoon ] shake some off."

I'm not exactly a rookie when it comes to serving the two aforementioned veggies, and I know, without equivocation, I have served more corn and okra to my guests than "Carter has liver pills." And more of the two than Tommy has sold those little squared burgers.

I really resented these intrusions, but because I haven't been too lucky in the employment arena lately, I let it slide. But I didn't like his vocal intonations. I harken back to employees ( team members ) who routinely said of mgrs: "he/she don't know how to talk to people."

And, Shirley, I have been guilty of such blunders as well, especially when the shoe was on the other foot.

All that being said, I worked the egg grill on Sunday. And handled it by myself, I might add. My G.M. was beaming and said he was impressed. Another mgr. applauded my composure, work ethic and stamina.

The manager who barked out instructions for serving veggies never said a word. That's life in the big city, eh?

Well, that's where I've been. I don't want the Pond to disappear.

Farewell and adieu, v.c.

P.S. Today is my second day off this week. Ah, life's little pleasures.